Tell Her
by JadeAngel
Summary: [beta] After KotOR II, Atton and Carth find themselves in the same boat. Both have lost their Jedi love. Will Revan and the Exile return to the men that love them?
1. Stuck in the Same Boat

A/N: So I beat KotOR II yesterday. Before my little brother! happy dance This is what came of it. Just the first chapter of …who knows how many. I don't know how far I'm taking this. But anyway, this fic contains a **lot of spoilers** (to both games)…and this IS the beta version. Note to self. Get a beta reder. That actually works. coughcough

-Lady Sephiroth

Tell Her 

"_Tell her…that Carth Onasi is waiting for her."_

Those had been his last words to the exile, before the woman had taken off in the Ebon Hawk to near-certain death on the dead planet of Malachor V, the site of the most terrible atrocity in the Mandalorian War, where she was to face the true threat that had been gathering.

It had been five days since they left.

Admiral Carth Onasi entertained no notions of knowing exactly what was going on, but he knew in his heart that the exile and her faithful companions needed to go there, or else the Republic, his precious Republic would fall. It had already come so close just five years previous, and it would have perished, had it not been for himself, the twi'lek and wookiee, the Jedi, the Mandalorian, the droids…and her.

Revan.

For five long years had he waited for her. For five long years he wished for the Jedi to be in his arms, her hands upon his chest, his arms around her slender waist as he breathed in her scent. For five long years he dreamed of her. Lithe body, soft hands, long black hair—always kept back in a ponytail, of course. She was perfection. His perfection. Though firstly wary of her, he had grown to love her. Everything, from that bemused expression perpetually on her face to the way she stood, one hip extended slightly, an open reminder to everything that though a beautiful woman, she was fully capable of defending herself against whatever threat happened to come against her or those she loved.

She had killed Malak, because he threatened not only her, but also everyone and everything else she held dear. Revan had saved Bastila from the darkside, had done the same with Juhani.

Yet that hadn't been enough. Too soon after the ceremony that awarded the group for their bravery and preservation of the Republic, more fighting broke out, and Revan, his Revan, left because she knew that she was needed to fight whatever this new threat was.

"_I can't take the people I love,"_ she had told him, before stepping out of his life forever, Jedi robes billowing behind her, face hidden so that he would not see the tears that were forming in her clear green eyes. But one did not need Jedi perception to know they were there, that she too had fallen in love.

Since her departure, Carth had entertained other notions in his head. Deep down he knew that she simply didn't want him to get hurt wherever it was that she was going, but a part of him wondered if perhaps she had simply left because of those feelings, knowing the Jedi's stance on love and attachment.

"Pulling a Bindo," he remarked softly to himself, staring out the window of the TSF office on Citadel Station. "I do hope you're okay, old man," he continued, his mind temporarily away from thoughts of his beautiful Revan, and on the old Jedi that had also aided in the fight against Malak.

No one knew where Jolee Bindo was, only that he was not among the countless Jedi to have been killed on the Miraluka world, as Juhani was, and that the bounty hunters operating out of Nar Shadaa had not claimed him as a prize. Perhaps he was back on the wookiee homeworld, or perhaps he was simply in hiding, as the rest of the Jedi were.

The rest of the Jedi. That got his mind back on the Exile, believed by many to be the last of them. He knew better, but apparently the rest of the galaxy didn't. And now…now the woman was the Republic's last hope. Strange how it worked out that way.

He could almost see pieces of Revan in the Exile. When it came to looks, Revan and she were much different, with the Exile sporting a blonde look and blue eyes in stark contrast to Revan's black hair and green orbs. But they wore their hair the same, in that low ponytail, and both had an aura of calmness, of light around them. And the Exile, she too had that same "don't mess with me" posture, and from what he had seen and heard, the woman was definitely Revan's equal when it came to battle.

But she too had left, along with her friends, much in the same way that Revan had taken everyone to the Star Forge five years ago. And there was no doubt in Carth's mind that the Exile would be going on alone at some point, to defeat whatever secret evil was threatening the Republic now…. just the same as Revan had to face Malak, her former apprentice, alone.

Everything was counting on them, too. With luck—no, the Force willing, they would bring peace to the galaxy again. Carth allowed himself a tight smile. If he knew Mical, then things would go well. With that man at the Exile's side, no harm would come to her. And not for the first time he wondered why exactly the scientist was calling himself "Disciple," but the admiral quickly shoved that thought away, as it really had little to do with anything.

Instead his mind focused for a moment on the Exile's companions. Anything was better than thinking about Revan, and the continuous void she was leaving in his life.

There was the bounty hunter, a feisty little redhead whom Carth had no doubt would fight to the end for whatever she felt was righteous. Same with the little droid—he hadn't mentioned that T3 had also accompanied him five years ago, but somehow he knew that information would become known if necessity required it.

And then there was also Mandalore and HK-47. Another tight smile crossed Carth's face as he thought of Canderous Ordo. _Good for him_, he mused, harboring no more ill will against the Mandalorians for the chaos they had infused throughout the galaxy, even though that had caused Revan's original fall—but had it not been for the fall, she never would have entered his life. But HK-47? He never liked that droid much. He hoped the tall robot wouldn't cause the Exile too much trouble.

His thoughts then drifted to the last two. Visas Marr and Atton Rand. Both devoted completely to the Exile. He figured the woman, the Miraluka, was simply grateful for redemption, but Atton…he knew the look in that man's eyes. It was the same that he had when gazing upon Revan.

"I should have warned him," Carth said softly, finally turning away from the window and stepping toward the door of the TSF office. "Warned him what falling in love with a Jedi would do to a man."

_Enough_, he commanded himself. There really was no time for this. Just in case the Exile and her companions were unable to defeat the threat, he needed to be ready. The Republic needed to be ready. It was his responsibility to make sure that the fleet was ready and that every Republic world remained safe. The destruction of Telos would not happen again, he vowed. Nor would the bombing of Dantoonine.

Not while he was on watch.

Swiftly the admiral walked out of the office and down the pathway, stopping for a moment at the cantina door. Since the Sith invasion, it had been closed, but he could hear crews inside cleaning it up and getting it back in business order. For a moment he entertained the notion of using his rank and prestige to get in there now, in order to grab a bottle of fine Corellian ale before returning his the flagship. Force knew he needed a drink about now.

Before Carth could make up his mind, his comlink flashed. "Admiral Onasi here," he replied quickly, choosing at that instant to just walk on away from the cantina. "What's going on?"

A buzz answered him, then a slightly garbled woman's voice. "Sir…w..we are getting a sig…from the Ebo…awk. Tracto…in now."

"Right. I'll be right there!"

With a sudden burst of hope in his heart, Carth took off at a fast pace, stepping around the various TSF officers and Khoonda militiamen who were still searching for anymore traces of Sith fighters. It was only a short distance to the shuttle, and from there a mere five minutes back to his ship. And from there? He didn't know what was going to happen, other than the return of the Ebon Hawk was likely good news.

And as predicted, within just a few minutes, Carth was emerging from the Citadel Station shuttle back onto his flagship, where Colonel Elise Sten and Lieutenant Brengin'Dyor were waiting for him, both the human woman and the twi'lek male with large smiles on their faces.

"Sir," Elise began, offering a hand to help Carth out of the shuttle, which was politely refused. "The crew of the Ebon Hawk has returned, and the threat on Malachor V is no more!" There was no mistaking the exuberance in her voice, nor the happiness in Brengin'Dyor's dark orange eyes.

The twi'lek quickly continued. "Yes, sir. We've won! The Jedi aboard say that the Sith threat is eradicated!"

Carth nodded, allowing another smile to tug at the corners of his lips. "Excellent. Now where are they, I really want to talk to them."

"They're in the medical bay, Admiral. A few of them, like Ms. Mira, are pretty torn up," Elise offered, taking a step back to allow her superior officer some room, knowing that he would want no impediment to getting there as quickly as humanly possible to discover exactly what had happened on the dead world of Malachor V.

He didn't have long to wait. Disregarding all professionalism Carth took off at a dead run toward the medical bay, ignoring the concerned looks of the various officers. As he ran, he collided with several, as both were too intent on their own affairs to look out for the other. But despite the slight setbacks, Admiral Carth Onasi was racing through the door to the medical bay.

Five men and woman were being treated. Disciple was busy attending to Mira's severe lacerations while a medical droid was busy wrapping a bandage around the man's leg. Visas Marr was busy with a male attendant, insisting that she needed no medical treatment despite the blood pouring from a wound near her right temple. Bao-Dur was standing slightly aside, tinkering with his fake arm with a far-off glaze in his eyes. Carth noted the lack of his small remote droid, but chose not to say anything about that as he glanced at the other end of the room to see Atton, with his back to everyone else, sitting upon a bed, one arm holding the other.

_Missing_...he realized. The droids were being taken care of mechanically, but there was someone missing from the team. _The Exile. Sithspit._

"What happened?" he ventured softly, daring to step further in.

Bao-Dur looked up, then shook his head and tried to smile, and failed. "She saved us. She saved us all. Kreia will not bother the general—or the galaxy, any longer."

Carth wanted to ask where she was, but a low growl from Atton's direction quickly changed his mind. "Then the Republic is safe again?" _For how long?_ He added mentally.

Finally succumbing to insistence of the attendant, Visas sat down and allowed him to begin treating her wound. The man removed her headpiece, letting her short jet-black hair fall to her shoulders and revealing her sightless white eyes. "She defeated my former Master, she defeated Lord Sion, and she also defeated Darth Traya, who had us all fooled from the beginning."

"Not all of us!" Atton shouted out, turning around glaring at Visas. "I knew that old hag was trouble from the beginning, but no one believed me! And now she took off, following the last bit of advice that old witch gave her!"

Carth blinked once, then looked from Atton to Mical, who he knew would give him the information he needed. "Pardon?"

Disciple nodded. "She left for the Unknown Regions. Following in Revan's footsteps, to weed out the evil that has been plaguing the Republic for so long."

Instantly, Carth took a step back. His brown eyes went back to Atton, who had since turned his back to the others again. In that moment, he felt a strange sense of camaraderie with the man. Now he wasn't alone. Someone else had lost their Jedi love. "I see," Carth responded dully.

Yes. He could see. He could see Atton resisting the urge to haul off and punch him for such a dry and seemingly unfeeling comment, and he could see the pain, the rejection that the man felt at the loss of his Exile. Carth Onasi was not a very sensitive man, but he could see anguish when it was sitting right there in front of him.

And then he was reminded of his own pain at the loss of Revan. His next words were caught in an unexpected sob in the back of his throat. "Revan did the same. I do see, dammit!" he murmured, before abruptly turning and walking away from the group of heroes.

That Corellian ale was sounding awfully good right now.


	2. Reunion

The flight had been extremely difficult. Not only was the stolen freighter from Treyas Academy threatening to disintegrate while in hyperspace, but her soul felt sick, and Exile had been fighting the temptation to turn back and defy the council once more, this time in the form of choosing love over everything else, much the same as during the Mandalorian War.

But no, she had trudged on, knowing deep within her heart that she had to follow Revan once more, this time into the unknown regions to face and unknown threat. It didn't matter that the command to go forth had been given by the treacherous Kreia, it was truth and it was necessary.

It was the fate of the entire republic that rested in her hands. The fate of Telos, Dantooine, Nar Shadaa, Onderon. Her friends, they too depended on her. Visas and Disciple, two of the Jedi, they needed her to survive. So did Bao-Dur and Mira, even the little droid T3.

And most especially, Atton Rand.

He didn't know—how could he—that she needed to leave for his sake. He too was a Jedi now, and therefore an even greater target than before. Plus, in order to save him, she couldn't let him love her. Leaving immediately after burying her ghosts at Malachor V was the only way, as she too needed to be saved from him, as she loved him too.

That brought her here, to a seemingly uninhabited planet lightyears from the nearest Republic world. It was a relatively hospitable planet, no poison gas and rocky crags like Malachor V, no refugees living in squalor as on Nar Shadaa, and no mercenaries or jealous generals, like Dantooine and Onderon. In fact, there was simply no human or alien life here, on the planet she designated Enso IV, as it was the fourth planet in a ring around a rather large star. It was populated just by deciduous trees and fertile valleys—according to the slightly disjointed sensors about the small ship.

Exile was definitely happy to be out of that vehicle. The days long trip to Enso IV, the first hospitable planet she found, was quite uncomfortable. She was cramped in the cockpit, as the rest of the ship smelled as though a bantha had given birth and no one forgot to sanitize it afterward. Plus there was no one with her, something she hated to admit that she had gotten used to.

During her long exile, the woman was alone all the time, and she enjoyed the solitude. It gave her a chance to reflect on her crimes, the atrocities committed for the Republic. She could consider her future, where the Force would take her, now that she was blinded to it.

But everything had changed with just one single person. Waking up on Peragus had been the turning point for everything, first the recovery of her Force sense, and then meeting Kreia, who had become her mentor until betraying her and everyone else on Dantooine, just to validate herself and teachings.

It was a pity, as the old woman was truly powerful and could have done so much good had she only allowed herself to come back to the light. But no, Kreia had chosen destruction over life, and the Exile had been forced to kill her.

That memory was difficult to think of, but standing on Enso IV was a calming experience. The sun was half-hidden behind fluffy white clouds, and the gentle chirp of small birds flitting around the trees wafted through the mild air. It was unlike any world she had ever been on; it was completely unspoiled by human hands.

But there was something else. The force was strong here, and it was untainted by the darkside. Life was abundant, from the birds and small mammals scurrying around everywhere. It was as though she was home, even though the woman had never been here before in her entire life.

"It's beautiful," she murmured softly, running her fingers through her dark blonde hair, which had come lose from its ponytail. For a moment she considered taking off at a dead run, for the sheer joy of it, but the woman's pragmatic side kicked in and she decided against it, choosing instead to settle herself down on the ground and stare at the wildlife around her.

Casually she dropped her weapon to her side and laid back, knowing that the double-bladed silver lightsabre was within easy reach should the tranquil peace of the place be broken. "Truly beautiful" the woman repeated, her silky voice carrying across the wind.

"Yes, it is," a feminine voice responded, as the familiar hiss of a lightsabre resounded, and a shimmering violet blade found its way to her throat. "Now. Who are you, and what do you think you're doing here?"

The Exile closed her eyes, then re-opened the bright blue orbs. There was a look of pained confusion on her face, as she had not felt anything at all wrong, had not felt the presence of another. Yet here she was, with a lightsabre to her neck, with her only consolation being that she felt no trace of darkness in her assailant—or even her assailant at all.

Taking in a shallow breath, the Exile considered reaching through the Force for her lightsabre, but decided against it, knowing that whoever this was, to be able to conceal herself completely in the Force, was not someone to take lightly. "I am merely an exile," she breathed out, not daring to lie. "Here to figure out what is hurting the Republic."

The lightsabre retracted from Exile's neck and she allowed herself to breathe somewhat easier, though the long silence was slightly nerve-racking. _Peace…peace._

"I see," came the reply, after several long seconds. "Stand up."

As ordered, the Exile stood and turned slightly, smoothing the non-existent wrinkles of her Jal Shey advisor armor, taking care not to let her hands come close to the twin blasters. She shook her head slightly to get her blonde locks out of her face, then turned to look at the other woman.

Tall, long black hair. Piercing green eyes. Jedi robes and two lightsabre's, the violet one, along with another held loosely in the woman's other hand. There was something oddly familiar about the way she stood, and then it hit he.

"Revan!"

A pained look crossed Revan's face, but a warm smile quickly replaced it. "That name no longer has any meaning to me," she said gently. "But it will do. Now…that doesn't really answer my question. Who are you?"

The Exile blinked a few times, then crouched down to grab her lightsabre. "I served you, during the Mandalorian wars. And then I returned to the Jedi." She stood back up, and replaced the sabre to her hip. "Who then exiled me, because they have nothing better to do with me."

For a moment Revan looked at her, then smiled again. "Ah. General Cora Delone. I didn't recognize you…it has been far too long."

"Eh, the council might say differently, but hey, we never were their favorite people." There was a glint of amusement in the Exile's bright blue eyes, matched by the bemused gleam in Revan's green orbs.

Chuckling softly, Revan nodded and offered the Exile her hand. "No, I can't say that we were. But at least things are working out now. Sort of. But tell me, Cora, why are you here again?"

She sighed. "Kreia told me that I had to go here, that I had to follow you in order to fight the ancient Sith threat, that what you and Malak did during the Civil War was nothing compared to what might come. Yeah, I realize that old hag wasn't the most trustworthy of people, but I feel as though this is where I need to be."

"Kreia?"

"You may remember her as Darth Traya."

"Traya." There was no mistaking the anger in Revan's voice, anger that not even the most trained Jedi Master could fully push away. "How exactly does she equate into all of this?"

_This…is going to be a long story. Better condense things_, the Exile mused. "Well, I was on my way back into known space, to talk to the Republic. My ship was attacked, and I guess that Kreia, aboard the Ebon Hawk, managed to rescue me…but then Sith showed up, I was knocked out, woke up on Peragus. I had to deal with a buncha stuff there, including being oggled and referred to as the "half-naked Jedi," but then we blasted off on the Ebon Hawk again, went to Telos, helped the TSF with some things, handed Czerka's butt to them, met Atris, was reminded why I can't stand her, headed to Dantooine, where I remade my lightsabre, the one Atris stole from me, helped out there. Also ran into Master Vrook, which was unpleasant as always. Oh. I also picked up some more people. First there was Kreia and Atton, both of whom I met at Peragus. Then there was Bao-Dur, Disciple, and Visas, the latter two who joined up on Dantooine. Then on Nar Shadaa Mira joined the crew, and of course, there were the droids. Oh. And Mandalore. We defeated Nihilus, the former master of Visas, right after Kreia killed the remaining Jedi Masters. So then we headed to Malachor V, where I had to fight Sion and then Kreia, but then Kreia's little academy busted up, and the Ebon Hawk again saved the day. But since Kreia told me to leave, I had to find another ship and leave everyone behind, to find you and figure out what exactly's going on."

Revan remained completely still, blinking only once or twice during the Exile's long-winded explanation of the events that had led her here. And as the story continued, Revan's mind quickly filed everything away in her mind. It had so many parallels to her story. The companions gained throughout the quest, a struggle to restore identity. Very similar indeed.

"You talk a lot, General. Much more than I remember."

The Exile looked at Revan, then gazed down to her feet, and once again glanced up. "I was alone for so long, didn't really talk to anyone. Then when I met everyone, I wanted to talk, but didn't get much of a chance. Sorry if I'm speaking too much."

Revan shook her head, ignoring the black strands of hair falling into her eyes. "No, you're fine, General. I actually know how you feel, but come, let's go someplace else. You look exhausted, and I really would like some more details."

Nodding, the Exile glanced at the small freighter that had carried her here and smiled. "I didn't exactly sleep in that thing. If people thought the Ebon Hawk was in disrepair, they should see that."

"The Ebon Hawk? Junked up? Hah. I'm sure," Revan replied with a snicker, knowing full well the looks people tended to give the ship. Few could truly see past the scuffed up exterior and slightly faulty hyperdrive to truly appreciate that vehicle for what it was worth. "Though it seems pretty ironic that it managed to get to you."

Again the Exile nodded. "Yeah…but stranger things have happened."

The two walked in silence for several long minutes after chuckling at the Exile's comment, each going to their own thoughts. Revan's mind wandered back to the first few days of her own self-imposed exile, as her green eyes wandered over to the Exile, wondering for a moment if she too had left behind someone she loved, as Revan had left Carth Onasi, and subtly stretched out her mind to the Exile's

And meanwhile, the Exile's thoughts _were_ on the man she left behind. His eyes, his shaggy hair, the way he would always drop everything to play pazaak with her. _Sixteen, oh, I've got a plus/minus four card. Excellent. Hmm. Twelve. Sixteen. Eighteen. Okay, a plus one ca—damn you Atton! You and your plus three._

She didn't even realize she was playing pazaak in her head until she looked up to see Revan giving her a very strange look. "You were trying to read my mind," she said flatly, willing herself not to get angry.

"Yes, I was," Revan replied, jutting out one hip and letting her arms fall to her side in her typical pose. "But don't get mad, it was curiosity driving me, nothing else. But I have to know. Pazaak? Why?"

"Because that's what he taught me."

An arched eyebrow was Revan's only response.

"You see, Atton taught me to play pazaak in my head, that way no one could get in. It's a defense mechanism that works somewhat through the Force. That if someone wanted to get in my head…I would be safe with him, playing pazaak." Her last words were strained, and it didn't take someone with Force sensitivity to realize the pain in her voice.

Revan did note it, and she offered a smile. "You love him, don't you?" she asked calmly, trying her very best not to betray her own feelings for Carth. That was a wound she was not willing to open up again.

"Yeah."

"Thought so. But hey…at least you'll be able to return to him someday, if nothing goes wrong." Revan smiled. "I mean, what are the chances of things going bad with two of the best Jedi ever?" A wink was added at the end of that statement, as she tried to lighten the situation.

The Exile managed a wane smile. "You're right, I guess. But you can go back to yours too, you know."

_What?_Revan blinked. _How does she know about Carth? I figured that by now, five years later, he would hate me, never want to see me again_. "No. He's moved on. It's been five years."

"He told me to tell you that he's waiting for you, Carth did," came the quick response.

Again Revan blinked, suddenly reminded of so many things. The victory aboard the Star Forge, the ceremony, the moment he first kissed her, and their teary farewell. "Really," she murmured, pausing just long enough to shake her head. "I see…"

Things were getting very interesting.


End file.
